Reply To: Hi – I'm a sociopath.



Nobody has ever asked me how I feel as a sociopath.
When I was younger, I told two of my closer friends of my sociopathic tendencies. One of them understood a bit, the other not so much. They slowly drifted away from the position they had of close friend of mine. I can tell they’ve always been wary around me from then on, even though they try to hide it. Always that slightly uneasy smile, that tiny flinch when I raise my hand – to scratch my ear.

I got the point.

Society doesn’t really want me, or need me.
I simply exist, and when I truly open up to someone, they get scared of me.

Throughout my life, that thought has always been lingering in the back of my mind. There’s nothing I can do about it – just try organising a sociopath pride march.

I learnt, through the ignorance of others, that I need to hide behind a face I put up. One of mindless positivity.
“What? No, nothing special here. I’m the same as everyone else” my broken record mask says as I actively intercept their probes to my inner world. They’ll never get in unless I let them – my defences are just too good – and ‘people’ have taught me that I don’t want them in. Hell, I had to make myself be truthful to a psychiatrist, just so he could tell my what I already knew – antisocial personality disorder.

What it feels like to be me is a stream of depressive boring dullness, occasionally interrupted by some other fleeting emotion. A whiff of joy from figuring out an equation. A needle of annoyance at breaking a stool. A slit of happiness, a cut of anger, a stab of placidity when playing my piano. You get the picture.

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